Chapter 22
Harlyn
Boone pops his head up off my lower stomach when my gut decides to embarrass me by growling. The fact that I can see the full whites of his eyes around the cornflower blue makes me think he’s shocked or surprised.
“See what happens when you distract me? You starve,” he accuses like it’s my fault we ended up tangled in his clean sheets for hours. The sun set long ago, and the thought of pizza makes my stomach grumble again. He looks down as if my body offended him. “I know, alright? I’m a selfish asshole.”
I giggle and push him away so I can finally get up. Going to the bathroom and cleaning up isn’t really an option at this point. I’m a mess, and I can’t even claim it was Boone—well, other than his saliva, because we were careful and he used a condom.
“Pizza is closed.” He sighs as I head toward the bathroom.
I might walk a little faster than usual, because I know he’s staring at my naked backside.
I never once thought Boone wasn’t completely happy with how I felt and looked while we were in bed.
He proved he liked what he saw more than once, but it’s a little harder to hold onto that confidence when we aren’t in a lust fog.
Just before reaching the bathroom door, I look over my shoulder and confirm my suspicions when I find his eyes trained on my ass. The heavy-lidded look pointed at me seems to prove he still likes what he sees, but I suck in my tummy when I turn to close the door anyway.
With a deep exhale, I drop my forehead to the door.
My inner thighs are slippery, but that reminder is nothing compared to the echo of throbs that hit me occasionally, as if my body is still reeling from the orgasms Boone delivered.
I squeeze my thighs together, and another aftershock tightens my core.
“We don’t have a lot of options, sweetheart. About the best I can do is a drive-through.” I hear him rustling around in the bedroom, but my mind is stuck on the fact that he called me sweetheart. It makes me smile.
I finally make my way over to the toilet and force myself to pee.
It isn’t easy. I end up flushing three separate times so I don’t clog the toilet with all the tissue I used.
Boone knocks on the door when I’m washing my hands.
I look around for a towel to cover up with, but it feels wrong to use his clean linens when what I really want is a shower.
“One sec.” I finish up then open the door just a crack to hide behind it.
I’m getting even more shy, which seems so stupid.
This man literally touched and licked nearly every part of me.
His eyes scan my face. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft, and even I can tell he’s unsure.
“Yes.” I nod and release my grip on the door. I don’t want him thinking I regret what just happened between us because I’m in my head about my body. “I was wondering if I could take a shower?”
His face relaxes, and he leans his shoulder against the wall, not offering me much in the way of privacy.
He’s dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a black fitted shirt.
He looks scrumptious, all comfy and relaxed.
“Feel free, you don’t need to ask, but first I need to know what you want to eat.
I promise to get you pizza soon.” He lifts a hand like he’s taking an oath. It’s adorable.
“Where are you going?” My shoulders relax as his eyes trail over me through the gap in the door. I don’t know how he can make me forget about my insecurities with a look or touch, but he does.
“McDonald’s is the closest, but I can go somewhere else.”
I shake my head. “Chicken nuggets and fries,” I say, feeling juvenile for some reason.
He tries to hide a smile. “Are you a sweet and sour girl or BBQ?”
“Honey, actually. Not honey mustard, just honey,” I say with more emphasis than needed, but I really don’t like mustard. “And ketchup.”
Boone’s brows rise slightly. “Drink?”
I could get a Frappe or sweet tea, but I’m already worried about not sleeping tonight since I took such a long nap, so I suck it up and commit to my childish order. “Hi-C orange drink, please.”
The small grin never leaves Boone’s face as he leans forward, pushes the door open, and reaches for my wrist, pulling me toward him.
My chest brushes up against the soft material of his shirt first, then the rest of him as he wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head.
“One chicken nuggy happy meal, coming right up.”
I click my tongue. “I don’t want a happy meal, unless it’s one of the ones that comes with a ten piece and socks or something.”
He bursts out laughing while squeezing me harder. I can’t help my answering smile in return. I can still hear the amusement in his voice when he says, “I should only be gone a few minutes. No one can get in the building without a keycard, and the door will be locked.”
The reminder of the need for security precautions is stark, dragging me out of the levity. I salute Boone as he stands back, because I don’t know how to handle the shift in my emotions. He twists his lips in a wry expression but leaves a few seconds later.
I wait to close and lock the bathroom door until after I hear the heavy front door snap shut. Instantly, I feel a shift in my bearing. I’m not as frightened as I was at the condo, but I’m not nearly as comfortable as I was when I knew Boone was here with me.
I used to like to shower with just a candle or small lamp for light, but the desire to relax in the shadows is gone now. In fact, showering isn’t even as appealing anymore because all I can think about is someone watching me or catching me alone and naked.
With forced determination, I turn the water on and wait for it to heat up a little before stepping under the spray.
My eyes remain on the door while I wash my hair with shampoo that smells like cedar.
I know I will regret not having any conditioner, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.
I didn’t think to ask for a washcloth, so I lather the soap between my hands before washing my body.
The slight tenderness between my legs sends a surprise pang of desire through me, which is just enough to make me stop focusing on what-ifs.
I have a towel wrapped around my hair and body when Boone returns thirty minutes later with two bags and a suspiciously small box. My mouth drops open in outrage, which makes him chortle as if that’s exactly the response he wanted.
“Don’t even think you’re going to get my matchbox,” he teases while producing a large fry and box of chicken nuggets.
“I hope they gave you a Polly Pocket instead,” I grumble with feigned aggravation.
“Ha, I would keep that too. I grew up with sisters, remember? I know how to utilize hand-me-downs.”
“I knew you were too good to be true. Confess, where is your toy box?” I make a show of looking around.
“Too good to be true, huh?” He leans back into the sofa with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I don’t have a toy box, but I could be persuaded to get one, as long as I got to use them on you.”
I flush, and Boone tips his head back enough that I can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the fry he was munching on, never once taking his eyes off me.
“I think I prefer just you please.”
Boone coughs hard and bumps his fist against his chest as if he’s choking.
It’s nice to know he isn’t the only one who can tease.
“And you asked so nicely.” His voice is pitched low and sexy.
It feels like a reward for saying something he likes, and it gives me butterflies.
I break eye contact and resume eating, even though the sweetness of the honey isn’t nearly as satisfying as Boone’s approval.
We remain fairly quiet for the rest of the meal.
He ends up eating a Big Mac and the six-piece nugget that came in the happy meal.
He even tries my honey and ketchup on his fries.
The way his nose scrunches up makes me think he doesn’t like it very much, but he doesn’t act like it’s gross the way Livy and Parker do.
Thinking of her reminds me that I need to make a phone call.
I look at the digital clock under the television, noting it’s past ten.
It isn’t terribly late, so Livy would still be up, but it’s late enough that I have a good excuse not to call at this hour.
There’s too much to talk about, and I have no desire to rehash tonight and allow it to taint the evening.
I purposely keep my eyes down on the lid of my cup when I say, “It’s pretty late.”
“Are you tired?” Boone sounds a little bewildered, not that I blame him. I did sleep for half the day, but I also used up quite a bit of energy with him. If I didn’t need to clean up, I might have fallen back asleep a while ago.
“A little. You wore me out,” I tease. It seems like something he would like to hear, “but I meant it’s kind of late to call Liv.”
“Ah.” He nods in understanding.
“Would it be alright if I used your phone to text Parker to let her know I’m okay and that I will call her tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Boone stands and retrieves his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and fiddles with the screen before extending it to me. I look down at the blank field, at a total loss for what to do next. “Did you need me to get his number?”
“I didn’t think about not having my phone. I mean, I knew I wouldn’t have my phone, but I just didn’t think about everything that’s on it like numbers,” I admit.
“We’re all guilty of taking our devices for granted. I would be lost without my phone and laptop. I have it in the file. Are you done with this?” He motions to my half empty fry box while getting to his feet.
“Yeah, let me get it. It’s the least I can do since you went and picked it up and paid for it.” I begin to gather our trash.
“You’re setting the bar too low again, Harlyn, if you think buying McDonald’s is something you have to make up for.”
“Again?” I question while he picks up more than half the garbage.